Unforeseen Complications
by DizzyDrea
Summary: It was a simple mission: get in, get the information they needed and get out. But what started out as a simple mission turns into a life-changing evening for Callen and Nell. An NCIS: Los Angeles/Star Trek: Alternate Original Series fusion. Part 1 of NCIS: Starfleet


Title: Unforseen Complications  
Author: DizzyDrea  
Summary: It was a simple mission: get in, get the information they needed and get out. But what started out as a simple mission turns into a life-changing evening for Callen and Nell.  
Rating: T  
Spoilers: None  
Author's Notes: I am a Star Trek junkie. I just thought I'd get that out of the way off the top. So, when I got my Trope Bingo card and it had a telepathy/mind meld square, naturally my mind goes straight to Star Trek. The original idea for this story was to have Callen using his telepathy during an interrogation. That's it. Just one scene that turned into over 5k words, with some serious romance thrown in. I'd complain about the epic fail except that I kind of like the way this story turned out. If crossovers or fusions aren't your thing, don't feel like you have to read. And if you've never seen a Star Trek episode or movie, don't worry. I think I've laid out the explanations, but you can always ask me (or Widipedia) if you've got questions.  
Disclaimer: NCIS and NCIS: Los Angeles and all its particulars are the property of CBS, Paramount, Donald P. Bellisario, Belisarius Productions, Shane Brennan, Shane Brennan Productions, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

"What have we got?" G Callen asked as he and his partner strode into Ops.

"New information on potential terrorist activity," Eric Beale said. He tapped on his PADD a few times, until a woman's face appeared on the screen in front of them.

"Who's she?" Sam Hanna asked.

"That is Lili Bender," Eric said. "She's an aide in the Office of the Federation President."

"Doesn't look much like a terrorist," Sam said.

"Do they ever?" Callen said, smirking. He'd met little old ladies who seemed perfectly harmless one minute and the next were attempting to take your head off. He'd gone way past assuming he knew someone just by looking at them.

"In this case, Mr. Callen, she isn't a terrorist so much as an information broker."

All three men turned to find their Operations Chief—a diminutive Vulcan who went by the incongruous name of Hetty Lange—entering Ops with their other intelligence analyst and the remaining two members of their team trailing behind her like ducklings. Hetty stopped in front of the screen and turned to face them as Nell Jones took her place beside Eric, her own PADD gripped in her hands. Marty Deeks and Kensi Blye—the other two members of their investigative team—took their places beside Callen and Sam, and as one, the group turned their attention to Hetty. Whatever she had up her sleeve, they'd be finding out about it shortly.

"What sort of information is she selling, and more importantly, who's she selling it to?" Sam asked, staring at the picture on the screen instead of their boss.

Callen had to admit: she didn't look like someone who'd be suspected of turning traitor. She had dark brown hair and soft green eyes, and the expression on her face was one of quiet competence and maybe even a bit of good humor. It was a bit jarring, considering no one looked that put-together in their identity photo.

"We suspect the who to be a group of renegades," Hetty said. "Pirates, to put it colloquially. As for the what, Ms. Bender works in the President's office. She has access to a wide variety of information. We're working with the President's Chief of Staff to find out what data Ms. Bender has had access to over the last six months."

Sam whistled. "That's a lot of data to sift through."

"Especially if we don't know what we're looking for," Deeks said. "I mean, she works in the office of the _President_. _Everything_ she touches is probably classified."

"Like looking for a needle in a stack of needles," Callen said. Turning to Hetty, he said, "Why do we suspect her?"

"We received a message from one of our contacts. Apparently, Ms. Bender has scheduled a trip in three days' time, at which time she will no doubt hand over the information she has collected," Hetty said.

"Are we going to tail her to the meet?" Kensi asked, speaking up for the first time.

"If we must," Hetty said. "But first, I'd like to see if we can find out where the meeting will be held, and where she's hiding the data she liberated. There's a small reception being held this evening for the newest delegations to the Federation Council. As an aide to the President, Ms. Bender will be in attendance."

"You want one of us to get close to her, maybe see if we can get the information out of her?" Callen asked.

"As subtly as possible, Mr. Callen, but yes, that's what we're hoping for."

"Well, that lets me out," Kensi said, smirking. "Sorry, partner, but you're going to have to go to the ball without me."

"And here I was looking forward to finally figuring out where you hide your phaser when you dress up," Deeks said, something just short of a leer on his face.

"Thank you for that image, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said reprovingly.

Deeks just smiled beatifically, as if getting caught leering at his partner wasn't cause for concern. Callen smirked at his partner; looked like Sam was going to owe him money. Kensi hadn't even batted an eyelash at the comment, which left Callen all but certain that there was something going on between them.

And good luck to Deeks on that one. Kensi was half Deltan; the primary reason she wouldn't be able to use her telepathy to help find out what Lili Bender's plans were was that Deltan telepathy had a tendency to make non-Deltans go insane. Somehow, Kensi's human father had managed to avoid that particular pitfall, but that meant that whenever the team needed to finesse information telepathically from a suspect, Callen—as a Betazoid whose brain structure more closely matched that of a human—would get the call. Brute force was more Kensi's specialty, especially when it didn't matter what condition they left the suspect in.

"So, Sam and I are going in to work the party?" Callen asked, turning his thoughts away from speculating about his friends. "As security or wait-staff?"

"Mr. Hanna will be going in as part of the Security detail," Hetty said. "I'd rather have one of you able to circulate the party, so you, Mr. Callen, will join me down in wardrobe to be fitted for a tuxedo."

"Please tell me Deeks isn't going to be my date," Callen said to the sounds of Sam's snickers. He didn't think Hetty would send Kensi in as his date; the one and only time their minds had accidentally brushed during a case had left Callen with a three day migraine. He loved Kensi like a sister, but there was no way he was lowering his shields around her again.

"No," Hetty said, frowning repressively at him. "Mr. Deeks and Ms. Blye will be searching Ms. Bender's apartment while she's at the diplomatic function. If we can secure the data before the meet, so much the better."

If anyone thought that Vulcans had no emotions and only one facial expression, he was going to show them a picture of this moment. Hetty could be more expressive than any ten humans he'd met. It was the one thing that kept everyone off-balance where she was concerned. In fact, his own thoughts about her had dragged his attention away just long enough that he almost missed her next order.

"Ms. Jones will be attending as your date, if that would be acceptable to you, Mr. Callen."

Callen's eyes swung to Nell, whose own eyes had a pinch around them that said she'd known about the assignment and was uncertain about it. So far, she hadn't said a thing, but if he lowered his shields, he'd bet he'd feel the nerves rolling off her. So, Hetty had told her, probably just minutes before they'd joined the team in Ops. He had to wonder if that was fair to Nell; after all, she wasn't an agent so she had very little experience in the field, and springing this on her at the last minute would only exacerbate her nerves.

Not that it mattered to Callen at all. Oh no. Because he did not find Nell Jones at all fascinating. Or interesting. Or beautiful. And just the thought of her, all dressed up in an elegant gown _did not_ do funny things to his insides.

But Sam was snickering at him again, and while he shot his friend a nasty look, it didn't seem to dent his demeanor in any way. He schooled his expression into barely-concealed glee, but that was as far as it got.

"Are you okay with that, Nell?" Callen asked. Because someone had to.

"Um, yeah," she said, not really very convincingly. Callen raised an eyebrow; she straightened up, looking him directly in the eye and nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine. I mean, how hard could it be? Circulate the party, have a few drinks, Pretend to be your w-wife, and I'm shutting up now."

She sealed her lips tight, pressing them into a thin line, her eyes falling to her PADD as she tried to look busy.

Hetty's lips tipped into a barely-there smile, which only lent more proof to Callen's theory about her being more expressive than most humans.

"Well, then, that's settled," Hetty said, clapping her hands together. "Mr. Callen, Mr. Hanna, Ms. Jones, to wardrobe. Mr. Beale, if you would be so kind as to fill in Mr. Deeks and Ms. Blye on their portion of the evening?"

There was a chorus of _yes, ma'ams_, and then Nell scurried off to who knew where while Deeks and Kensi stepped up to the screen to start talking strategy with Eric. Hetty threw him a knowing wink before she, too, disappeared.

Sam was chuckling beside him as they made their way downstairs. "Reminds me of my first host, Tandy. A hopeless romantic, but she almost spilled kassa tea all over herself every time Jona walked in the room."

Callen shook his head, both at the weirdness that was hearing his Trill partner talk about his past hosts, and at his own juvenile behavior. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to either one—being anything less than suave in front of a woman _and_ hearing Sam talk about _being_ a woman as easy as breathing.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not that bad," Callen said.

"Just make sure you don't spill champagne on Nell's dress and you'll be fine."

Callen shook his head again, another rueful smile peeking out. "Thanks. I think."

~o~

Callen and Nell made their way through the crowd towards the entrance to the reception room, her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. She was calmer now; a few well-chosen words before they'd left Ops had helped talk her down from the nerves. Turned out it had as much to do with having to dress up and look elegant as it did with being his partner for the evening.

After they'd spoken, he'd watched as she'd confidently double checked the small palm phaser she'd been issued before she tucked it into her clutch along with a lipstick, compact and her communicator. When she'd turned to tell him she was ready, he'd found his mouth had gone dry. She was beautiful; her black gown had some sort of shimmer to it, and it hugged her curves as if it had been made for her. Her hair had been teased into some sort of up do that accentuated her face, and the strappy heels she'd slipped on gave her another couple of inches that didn't do much to erase their height difference, but seemed to be the final touch of elegance and sophistication she'd needed to transform from their intelligence analyst into... the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

Not that Callen was any slouch tonight, either. Hetty had done her magic on him, dressing him in a tuxedo that was tailored to fit like a glove. He hadn't missed Nell's appreciative once-over when he'd emerged. Or Sam's cat-calls, but it wasn't like Sam got a pass either. His uniform for the evening was Starfleet Security standard issue: flat grey with red piping and absolutely no personality.

Sam's reply to that had been that he brought enough personality to the uniform to make up for its shortcomings.

Even now, he had to chuckle at that. Nell tossed him an inquiring glance as they approached the doors and Sam, stationed outside helping to check invitations as people entered. Callen tipped his chin at Sam, and watched Nell smother a knowing smirk.

They approached their teammate, who smiled and winked at them. "Good evening—" he glanced at the PADD he held as Callen held out their invitation "—Mr. and Mrs. Chambers. Please enjoy yourselves."

Callen brushed a quick question across Sam's mind, looking for information on their target. He always found telepathic contact with Sam a bit disconcerting—he'd never get used to sensing two consciousnesses within his friend's mind—but a quick, one-way contact had often served them well. Sam gave a subtle shake of his head as he and Nell passed, letting Callen know that Ms. Bender hadn't arrived yet.

They moved into the room, picking up drinks and appetizers, circulating as they kept an eye out for their target. Callen hadn't lowered his shields, preferring to wait until their target arrived so he could avoid the headache he knew would come from too many minds in an enclosed space. Even with them still in place, he could sense Nell's nerves making a return appearance. He paused near the outskirts of the room, raising an eyebrow as he turned her to face him. She winced, her nose wrinkling adorably at being caught out.

She stared up into his eyes for a long minute before she seemed to come to a decision. Grabbing him by the wrist, she tugged him through the French doors and out onto the balcony.

It was deserted out there, and a little cool after the warmth of the reception room. Callen set his glass on a low table beside a chaise lounge, watching as Nell moved to the railing. She was staring out at the beautifully landscaped Presidio grounds as she fiddled with her champagne flute.

Callen took a moment to admire the view—of Nell, not the Presidio. She really did look stunning this evening. The straps of her dress crossed over her chest to fasten at the nape of her neck, the fabric skimming her sides to puddle at the swell of her bottom, leaving a bare expanse of milky skin that he found his palms itching to touch. With her hair piled atop her head and sparkling earrings dangling from her ears, she was the epitome of elegance and beauty, and he found himself considering things he'd never allowed himself before.

When she didn't speak for several minutes, Callen frowned and moved to stand next to her at the railing. "Gonna tell me what's going on?"

Nell sighed, glancing up at him out of the corner of her eyes. "You're going to find out soon enough anyway, the minute you lower your shields, so I thought I'd just tell you, but—" she shrugged "—the words won't come."

"Would it be easier if I read you?" he asked. He turned to lean a hip against the railing, keeping his hands clasped in front of him so as not to pressure her. "Or would you rather just tell me, now that I know there's something to tell?"

She turned to face him, head bent as she continued to toy with the glass in her hand. Whatever it was, it was clearly distressing her that she'd have her secret exposed, but Callen knew they had a mission to complete, so he couldn't simply wait her out. He plucked the glass from her unresisting fingers and set it down on the table next to his. When he returned to her side, he took her hands in his, clamping down hard on his shields to give her time to adjust before he read her.

"I'm not going to read you until you give me the okay," he said, earning a quick nod from her. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

He watched as Nell took a deep breath, then nodded. "Okay, I'm ready."

Callen lowered his shields, a bit at a time, mindful of the crowd just beyond the doors to the balcony. He didn't want or need to read anyone but the woman in front of him at the moment, so he focused his mind on her, allowing her emotions to spill into his awareness as his mind reached out to hers.

He could feel her nervousness coupled with excitement, drawing a smile out of him. It wasn't often that she was required to go out into the field, so he understood that this must feel like a treat for her. But underneath those emotions was a nervousness of a different kind. Fear of being found out, and when he traced that emotion back to its core, he nearly pulled back in shock.

Like a flower opening its petals to the sun, he saw her mind open to him. Admiration, respect, confidence, friendship, all focused on him. But it was the undercurrent that shocked him the most, for underneath all the swirling emotions was a deep pool of love, of a kind so intense, so passionate, so unconditional that it took his breath away.

But there was something else, tugging at his awareness, pulling him deeper into her, a connaturality he'd never felt before. It was as if they were made for each other and he could feel his mind slotting into hers as if that was where it was always meant to be. But that was impossible with a non-telepath.

"Technically speaking, I'm not really null."

Callen refocused his eyes as he pulled his mind back, just a little, finding Nell looking up at him, her eyes huge in her face. "You're—what?"

Nell flashed a small smile, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. "My great-grandmother was Betazoid. I can interact with telepaths with ease, but I can't initiate telepathic contact."

"And Hetty knows this?" Callen asked. Somehow, out of everything he could have asked, that seemed to be the most relevant to his shock-numb brain.

Nell shrugged again. "She knows."

Callen continued to stare at her, his mind still trying to make sense of everything he'd learned in the last few minutes. Nell loved him, was part telepath and was so compatible with him they'd almost bonded right there on the balcony at a diplomatic function where they were supposed to be making contact with a potential traitor to the Federation.

"Our target just arrived, G."

And like a cold bucket of water, Sam's voice in his ear brought him back to reality. Keenly aware of their situation, he stepped closer to Nell and cupped her cheek in his hand. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes as she nuzzled his palm.

_We're not done with this conversation_, he whispered directly into her mind.

"I know," she said, opening her eyes as she nodded in agreement. "But we've got work to do, so let's get to it."

Callen leaned in, dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling back, dropping his hands and straightening his jacket. He extended his arm, elbow crooked to form the perfect landing spot for her small hand. Nell slipped her hand into that hollow, smiling up at him.

"Shall we?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She winked at him. "Let's."

~o~

Finding Lili Bender in the swirl of elegantly-dressed men and women turned out to be the easy part. Working their way around the room so that they could discreetly 'bump into' her turned out to be a lot harder. The woman seemed to be the belle of the ball, flitting easily from one group to the next, chatting with all manner of guests as easily as if she'd known them all her life. Callen supposed it was the hallmark of a talented diplomat, a skill he'd never been able to master and thankfully hadn't needed to.

In the end, Callen and Nell opted to put themselves into Ms. Bender's expected path and wait for her to come to them. It took a while, and they had to endure several boring conversations, but finally, their target was before them, extending a hand to shake.

"Gerald Chapman," Callen said when prompted, using the opportunity of skin-on-skin contact to tap into her mind. "And my wife, Nancy."

"It's nice to meet you both," Ms. Bender said. "I don't think I've seen you at one of these before."

"We've just come back from a rotation on New Vulcan," Nell said, their cover story rolling smoothly off her tongue. "My husband has this pathalogical need to see the Universe, but I'm looking forward to a cool San Francisco summer."

As expected, Callen felt their target's thoughts shift to the trip she had planned, so it didn't take long to find out where she planned to meet her contact.

"And are you settling in?" Ms. Bender asked, completely oblivious to the faintly guiding touch Callen had in her mind, nudging her thoughts along the desired path. "Have you found a place yet?"

"We've only been back a few days, so we're staying in the Diplomatic Quarters until we find someplace," Nell said, smiling up at Callen. "I'm still trying to convince my husband to buy outside the City. He wants a condo within walking distance, if he can get it."

"Property's expensive in the City," Ms. Bender said, and Callen could feel her thoughts as they slid effortlessly to her own apartment. He sifted through her surface memories and—there it was, the information they'd been hoping for. "But there's no place like it in the Universe, so I say, if you can afford it, try to find a place here. You won't regret it."

"See, honey," Callen said, smirking at Nell even as he gently pulled his mind away from their target. "Even she agrees with me."

"Oh, you," Nell said, lightly tapping him on the arm as if she were exasperated with him and this whole conversation. It was a neat bit of acting, as if they'd been doing it forever, and Callen had to wonder if she was using a bit of that nearly-non-existent telepathy she had to help the conversation along.

"Well," Ms. Bender said, her eyes catching on something over Callen's shoulder, "it's been nice chatting with you, but I see there's someone I need to talk to. Good luck with the house hunt."

"Thanks," Callen said as she stepped away and moved on to the next group. He watched her for a few moments, to see if she'd picked up his telepathic nudges at all, but she seemed blissfully unaware of what just happened.

Callen placed his hand on Nell's back—all that bare skin taunting him and sending a tingle rushing through his body—guiding her to the buffet. "Her trip to Reisa is just a ruse," he muttered loud enough that Sam and Hetty could hear over the comms. "She's taking a shuttle to Vrax as soon as she arrives. I'm guessing that's where she'll meet her contact."

"Understood, Mr. Callen," Hetty said. "And the package?"

"Is on a storage device inside a book of Vulcan love poetry."

"Hmmmm," Hetty said. Callen and Nell had to work hard to supress the twin giggles that threatened to burst forth. "I'll pass that information along. Please continue to observe our target and report back when her status changes."

"Understood," Callen said.

He and Nell shared an understanding look before they took their plates of hors d'oevres to a quiet corner of the room and watched as Ms. Bender continued to work the room. Callen was acutely aware of Nell beside him, but he kept his shields firmly in place. He knew how easy it would be to slip into her mind and tangle his thoughts with hers, but he also knew this wasn't the place or the time. The situation wasn't dangerous, per se, but it never paid to lose focus in the middle of a mission.

There'd be time for that later. He'd make sure of it.

They mingled some more, all the while keeping their target in sight, and when Hetty finally gave them the all-clear, they both sighed in relief and, by mutual unspoken agreement, headed for the door. Callen nodded at Sam as they passed, and Sam winked back, bringing a smile to Nell's face.

The cool air outside was like a smack to the face after the warmth of the reception room. Callen dropped his jacket over Nell's shoulders as they made their way back to Section 31 headquarters, tangling their fingers together as they walked hand-in-hand across the Presidio.

~o~

Hours later, they'd finally finished debriefing the mission and writing their reports. It had been sheer torture for Callen, who couldn't get the sense of connaturality he'd found with Nell out of his mind. The love and attraction was almost secondary to thoughts of what they could do if their minds were joined.

It was a luxury Callen had never thought to have. His life hadn't been easy; he'd never known his father, and his mother had died when he was young. Family was important to Betazoids, and without one, he'd always been on the fringes of society. And even though he'd found a family of sorts in Section 31, he still longed to be connected to someone, to build a life with someone that he could call his own.

Of course, he was getting ahead of himself. He had no idea what Nell wanted; he only knew she loved him, but given the work they did and the life they lived, he wouldn't assume she intended to bond with him and tie her fate to his for the rest of their lives.

They'd left headquarters together, walking across campus to Callen's apartment at the edge of the Presidio. Now that the mission was over, the longing to touch her was pressing on him, but he kept a discreet distance between them as they walked. He couldn't be sure what would happen when they touched again, and rather than having them discovered by Starfleet Security or the Police engaging in some sort of public indecency, he'd opted to keep his hands to himself for the walk to his place.

He could see Nell casting him furtive glances every so often, but she'd respected the distance he'd put between them. Above all, he wanted to talk to her before they did anything rash. He needed their joining to be willing, and he knew it would be anything but if they just followed their instincts without talking about it first.

"You okay?" he asked her when a few silent minutes had passed.

Nell smiled at him. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You do know what might happen once we're alone at my place, right?" he said, raising an eyebrow in an unconscious immitation of their Operations Chief.

"I know," she said, rolling her eyes. "My grandmother told me what it was like, being a human bonded to a Betazoid. She said true connaturality is an amazing, precious thing, and that if I ever found someone I was connatural with, I shouldn't think twice about bonding. I should just go for it."

"Did you know we'd be connatural when we met?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Despite the fact that I have a Betazoid in my family tree, what I told you wasn't an exaggeration. I can't read anyone, not even a little, but I can open myself to contact with a telepath in a way that normal humans can't."

"So, you fell in love with me before you even realized how connatural we'd be," he said, no small amount of wonder in his voice. "Wow. That's some luck."

Nell's smile turned impish. "As a wise woman once said, 'it's better to be lucky than good.'"

Callen recognized one of Hetty's favorite phrases and chuckled. He drew to a stop, sobering as he thought about what lay ahead. Nell took a few more steps, stopping and backtracking when she realized Callen was no longer beside her.

"What is it?" she asked. She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together as he clamped down on his shields.

"I'm pretty sure that the next time I open my mind to you, we're going to bond." It wasn't even a question of if anymore, not for him. He just needed her to understand what that meant. What she was getting.

"I kind of guessed," she said, smiling as she took his other hand in hers. "I'm glad. I love you, and I can't imagine having that with anyone else besides you."

"Nell, you need to know—" he cut himself off, not knowing how to explain it and knowing that opening his mind to her to let her see his memories was a bad idea. He was a telepath who didn't need to use words to get his meaning across, only the one time he desperately needed to use his abilities was the one time he couldn't. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the utter frustration of this moment.

He looked down at her, helpless to explain, but it turned out, he didn't need to.

"I've read your file," she said, stepping just a little closer, "not the official Starfleet one, but the real one. Hetty gave it to me, back when I first joined Section 31."

"Then you know," he said, his eyes pleading with her to understand, "that I have nothing to offer you but who I am now. No name, no family. I do love you, Nell, but I'm not sure that's enough."

"Hey," she said, freeing her hand from his white-knuckle grip to lay it on his cheek. "I don't need anything else. You're more than enough for me. Besides, you're forgetting that I have a family. Kind of a big, nosey one, but what's mine is yours. Okay?"

He stared into her eyes, looking for the lie in her words, but all he saw was sincerity and adoration staring back at him. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close as his emotions overwhelmed him. He hadn't even kissed her and he already knew she'd be a perfect fit for him.

When that thought struck, he chuckled. Nell pulled back, a confused frown creasing her brow. "What's that for?"

Instead of answering, he bent his head and took her lips in a searing kiss. He felt the physical desire for her sweeping through his body as he kissed her; lips and tongue and teeth moving in concert as they simply allowed the moment to spin out. He kept his shields in place, though it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He desperately wanted to open his mind to her and join them, body and soul, but he knew now wasn't the moment.

When he pulled back, he looking into her eyes, glowing under the dim streetlights. "We need to get to my place before we do something indecent in public," he nearly growled.

Her answering shiver was satisfying. "Then let's get moving, Mister."

It took all his self-control, but Callen stepped back, allowing Nell to slip out of his arms. It would take them only a few minutes more to reach his building, but he begrudged even those precious moments because they kept him from doing what he really wanted to do.

"Soon," she said, as if reading his mind were already possible.

He raised his eyebrow, only to get a wink in reply. Reaching out, he took her hand in his and they turned as one towards his apartment and the future.

~o~

Callen woke as the sun's light was barely touching the windows of his bedroom. For a moment, he couldn't figure out what had jolted him out of the soundest sleep he'd had in far too long. The sound of his communicator trilling from the bedside table finally penetrated the fog of sleep. He reached for it, careful not to disturb the woman curled around him, her head pillowed on his chest, her hair a fiery halo around them.

The ID on the communicator flashed Ops, so he figured it could only be one person. "Eric, what have you got?"

"So, it turns out Lili Bender did a runner last night," Eric said. "Grabbed her stuff and took the first shuttle to Reisa. We figure she must have seen something at the reception last night that spooked her."

"Were we able to trace her after she left Reisa?"

"Yeah," Eric said on a sigh. "We had a couple of operatives in place, just in case. She was arrested on Vrax trying to meet up with a group of Andorian renegades."

Callen snorted. "I bet Granger was pissed."

The Deputy Director of Section 31 was a typical hotheaded Andorian, but unlike many of his species, he was fully committed to the goals of the Federation. It didn't hurt that he had extensive knowledge of the galactic underbelly, courtesy of his time in the Andorian fleet as a young officer.

"You have no idea," Eric said. "I thought he was going to throw a chair when he found out. His antennae were laying flat on his head for hours. Be glad you weren't here."

Callen glanced down at Nell, who's eyes were open, looking up at him as she listened to the conversation. He winked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm happy right where I am," he said, more to Nell than Eric, but he didn't need to know that.

"Speaking of which, Hetty asked me to tell you she doesn't want to see you and Nell at HQ until Monday." Eric paused, then passed on the rest of the message, his sly smile more than obvious in his voice. "She also said to tell you congratulations."

Callen could feel surprise bloom in his mind, the same surprise he could see on Nell's face, drawing a gentle smile out of him.

"Tell her thanks, Eric. Callen out."

He tossed the communicator back onto the nightstand, heedless of where it landed. Wrapping both arms around Nell, he pulled her closer, holding her tight as he let the glow of their bonding wash over him once more.

"Think he knows what happened?" Nell asked.

"He knows, because Hetty knows," Callen said. "Or, at least, he knows _something_ happened. You okay with that?"

Nell moved to drape herself more fully over his chest, pillowing her chin atop the arms resting on his chest. "It'd be hard to hide this, and I don't really want to. We belong to each other now. If I could, I'd shout it from the rooftops."

"You know I would too," he said, tucking a slice of hair behind her ear. "But with the work we do, I think I'd rather keep this just between us and the people that matter."

She hummed her agreement, a sensation he could feel physically and mentally. It was a strange feeling, one that was going to take some getting used to. He'd have to teach her how to shield so that they wouldn't be distracted in the field. Although, being able to communicate telepathically with each other could also be useful.

He was eager to test this new connection, but not today.

"Not tomorrow, either," Nell said, her smile growing. "I have plans for you, Mister, and they most definitely do not include work."

"Indeed," Callen said, his eyebrow rising. "And just what do these plans include, if I may ask?"

She raised her own eyebrow, sending him a mental image of their bodies tangled together, glistening with sweat, suffused with passion. Callen groaned. After the marathon of the night before, he didn't know if he had much left, but his body was certainly responding to those images. He sent her a few of his own, sensing her rising desire through their bond.

"You are going to be the death of me," he growled as he rolled her underneath him, pressing kisses to her body, reveling in the connection growing between them.

Nell just laughed. "And what a way to go."

~Finis

* * *

Author's Note Post-script:

The idea of connaturality isn't mine. It comes from the _Firebird Trilogy_ by Kathy Tyers. It's not strictly Star Trek canon-compliant, either, but there's not a lot of information on Betazoid telepathy, so I just winged it. Plus, I liked the idea that Callen and Nell were highly compatible but just hadn't realized it yet because they'd never had telepathic contact.


End file.
